Deliver Us
by Cerise Murmur
Summary: Simone is struggling with her feelings for Annabelle and what the church says she should feel. Oneshot. Simone x Annabelle. Annabelle x Simone


**I'v****e been feeling really lazy with my writing so far...so, I decided to just write a quick one shot...because frankly...I feel really bad about leaving all of these chapter fics just like...hanging there. But, guys, seriously, they will get done, I promise...I just don't want them to be crap, so I have to get out of this funk first. So, enjoy this. **

**Reviews are sexy. **

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_Sanctify, O Lord, our souls, bodies, and minds. Touch our minds, search out our consciences. _

I looked up, exhaling as the crucifix grew before me, quickly bringing my hand down, up, around, the familiar movement requiring no thought, the fear trickling down my spine was all too familiar. I bowed my head, my eyes closing...and there I was again, searching for something in the blackness, something real that I could reach for...something besides her voice and her hands...something besides her milky skin...

_Cast out from us every evil thought, every impure idea, every base desire and memory..._

I pushed the thought from me as the rosary beads slid through my fingers, my eyes dropping to greet them. The red, sparkling in the pale alter light, it reminded me of her rosy cheeks, of the red in her hair. My fingernails bit into my skin as I looked towards the alter, begging, pleading for a release. I let my eyes close again as I let the aroma of incense fill me, I tried to let it cling to the fragments of her and purge me of them.

_Every unseemly word, all envy, pride, and hypocrisy. Every lie, every deceit..._

Shadows moved behind my closed eyes, a cool touch sent shivers down my spine and I leaned into it, not being able to escape her touch...they say the devil cannot enter a church...but he was here...touching me with pale fingers, running elegant digits under my skirt, and my eyes were closed...so I could shut Him out...and cling desperately to this incense...purging me, purifying me.

_Every worldly temptation, all greed, all vainglory, all wickedness, all wrath..._

Her fingers were on mine now, raising them to the succulent curve of her lips, the arch of her jawbone and the gentle fluttering of her eyelashes...this was happening again...guide me...save me...

_All anger, all malice, all blasphemy and sloth..._

I felt her warm breath on my neck, her lips mere seconds from brushing my flesh...I willed them to be gone, because the touch alone would be enough for me to cast aside all thought of ridding myself of her...oh, the touch alone...her fingers slid further up, my thigh tightening where they lie, my breath coming in short rasps, the incense filling my lungs, but there it fell, mixing with her instead of chasing her out.

_Every movement of flesh and spirit that is alien to your holiness..._

It was the whispers next, the hot breath of a thousand words that I had never given her the chance to speak, a thousand melodies that had never graced my ears...I was being serenaded by her touch and I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes...I couldn't bear to see the alter that I so longed to connect with.

_And enable us to turn to You, Master, Lord, who loves humankind..._

I felt the rosary beads slip completely from my grasp, I heard them shiver through the air and gasp as they hit the ground, as if they too, were condemning me...as if they too were whispering into my ear...but instead of the sweet amore it was ragged disapproval, like daggers.

_To call on you, with boldness and without condemnation...._

Her whispers started to grow colder, like she was slipping away...a ghost next to me, a coldness that would seem to never fade. I felt my hand flutter to my heart, and I could feel the frantic finality in it's beating, I knew that she was gone, chased out. But, I wanted her back, and everything about this moment disgusted me. The beauty in my life was being controlled by the demons in my soul. And they could be nothing but demons...feeding hungrily upon the happiness that they themselves claimed to have created.

_With a pure heart, a contrite soul, an unashamed face..._

I opened my eyes, all was silent, everything in it's place, but slightly less majestic than before. Christ stared down at me with empty eyes, for the first time I could see the flaking paint of his cross, the cracks in the hands that held him up. The wood of the alter held no beauty, and the rosary...it's enchantment had died. I kneeled, and the cross wouldn't come, the motion had disappeared.

And all I wanted was Annabelle. And it felt exactly right.

_And with lips that are sanctified..._


End file.
